Unless they could get the herd across the lead, five miles might as well have been fifty. The front-most deer pushed up to the edge and balked. Instinctively the herd began to mill, circling on itself, those on the inside pushing to the outside, the outside absorbed within the swirling mass. For once, there was no safety in numbers. "As the herd bunched up around the narrow crack," Lopp wrote, "their combined weight broke the thin ice and about half the herd struggled around in the cold icy water."

There was absolutely nothing the herders could do but watch. They dared not get close for fear that they too would fall through the ice. Lassoing the antlers of one or two deer was pointless. The one thing they all had to do was not panic. That would only make the dire situation even worse.